


About Last Night

by LouisiannaC13



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Drunken hook-up, Hotel Room Sex, M/M, Memory Loss, NSFW, Smut, VictUuri, Victuri, after the Sochi GP banquet, bottom!yuri, reverse au, top!victor
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-25
Updated: 2017-03-25
Packaged: 2018-09-26 20:20:03
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 14,472
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9920759
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LouisiannaC13/pseuds/LouisiannaC13
Summary: Russia’s living legend Victor Nikiforov gets ridiculously drunk at the Sochi Grand Prix finals banquet - and shy Japanese skater Yuri Katsuki surprisingly offers to bring him back to his hotel room. What’s going to happen when Yuri ends up alone with his intoxicated and very sexy idol?





	1. An Unforgettable Night?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This first chapter can be read as a stand-alone piece, but there are more chapters in the works (which will cover the aftermath of this fateful encounter)!

Yuri couldn't quite wrap his head around what was happening. Was he really supporting none other than Victor Nikiforov to his hotel room? The Victor Nikiforov who he had spent half of his life admiring and aspiring towards. The Victor Nikiforov who had won five consecutive Grand Prix gold medals, and who was nothing short of a figure skating god.  
The Victor Nikiforov who was currently drunk out of his mind, after the Grand Prix Finals banquet. 

Readjusting his grip on the Russian skater, Yuri staggered towards what had been said to be the former’s hotel room. Okay, he admitted that he wasn't completely sober either. That’s probably why he had found the confidence to quip up and offered to bring the wasted Victor back to his room. Normally, he would never had had the guts. But tonight he felt… Well, like he could take liberties. Like he wanted to take liberties. Nothing too daring, of course. Even if he had spent the last few years yearning for the Russian skater, just being able to spend this short time with him would be enough. The time it took to bring him to his room. 

Stopping outside room 314, Yuri propped Victor slightly up against the door. The latter wasn't totally out of it, but he was definitely unsteady on his feet. The Japanese skater tentatively looked up into Victor’s blue eyes, and found them surprisingly clear and focused. Focused on him. Yuri’s heartbeat accelerated.  
“Um…” he began, suddenly caught off guard by the taller man’s intense gaze. “Where’s your key card?”  
Victor sighed and furrowed his eyebrows.  
“In my pocket.”  
“O-okay,” Yuri replied, and started to gently rummage through Victor’s jacket pockets, finding only the latter’s phone. He consciously kept his eyes away from the other man’s, as he felt the mere look would do unspeakable things to his insides.  
“No, my trouser pockets,” Victor continued, suggestively moving his hips towards Yuri.  
Oh boy. Yuri felt his cheeks starting to burn at the contact, even though through layers of clothing. But nevertheless, he brought his hands to the front pockets of Victor’s dress trousers and started to pat him down. 

Victor suddenly hummed, and knocked a finger against the door behind him.  
“Am I invited?” he asked, in a tone that was way too sultry.  
“Um, it’s your hotel room, Victor,” Yuri muttered, still feeling the fierce blush taking over his face and what felt like his entire body.  
Victor raised an eyebrow.  
“Really? Then you’re invited.”  
At this, Yuri had to look up and was met with a heavy-lidded and slightly smiling expression. They stared at each other for a second. Because Yuri simply couldn’t look away. He still couldn't believe it – the Victor Nikiforov. In front of him. Giving him… that look. It was almost too much to bear.  
“Mm, no. Back pocket,” Victor suddenly said.  
Yuri started when the brief silence was interrupted. What? Back pocket? Oh, right. He was still looking for the damn key card. 

It must have been the alcohol in Yuri’s own system that made him act so brazenly. And Victor’s utterly seducing tone of voice. He didn’t even have to look at him now to have him do something to his insides. And at the moment, Yuri didn’t really care. He slid both his hands past Victor’s hips until he reached the Russian’s perfect ass, although still gently searching for the card. Making circular motions over the back pockets – and it dawned on him, did Victor’s trousers even have back pockets? – he really couldn’t help but stop breathing for a second. Really, what was happening? Was he really fondling Victor Nikiforov’s ass? And in public, for that matter? God, they were still standing outside the hotel room. 

But all the thoughts rushing through Yuri’s head went still when Victor dipped his head down, placing his lips on the former’s neck. And began to gently kiss and suck on Yuri’s skin. Oh God. Oh God. And his goddamn hands were still on Victor’s ass. He knew he should have removed them, should have let go. Should have distanced himself. But it was like he was in a trance. At this point much less because of the alcohol – Yuri really hadn't even drunk that much – but because of Victor’s presence. It was headier than any drink. It consumed him. 

After just a moment, Victor removed his lips from Yuri’s neck and looked up with a drunken smile.  
“Oh, now I remember.”  
He reached into an inner pocket of his suit jacket, and pulled out the freaking key card. Yuri stared at him in disbelief for a moment, before furrowing his eyebrows.  
“Really?” He couldn’t help but keep his tone slightly irritated. Even if he wasn’t – actually not at all. Cause what he had just experienced in the hotel corridor was beyond anything he could have ever imagined would actually happen. It was a dizzying thought that they had never even interacted before tonight. 

Yuri removed his hands from Victor’s ass and took the key card in a vague act of rebellion, but the Russian skater only chuckled. The younger man really tried to not get carried away – but the sounds Victor made, his smell, the feel of his hand on Yuri’s lower back as he inserted the card into the lock slot… Taking a deep breath, he resolved himself to put Victor to bed and leave. That had been his intention all along, after all. He hadn’t… expected anything more. He certainly hadn’t expected what had already happened, and he was not going to push for more. No matter how much he wanted it…

Yuri got the door open and stepped into the room, pulling Victor by the hand. He noticed that the Russian’s hotel room was certainly fancier and bigger than his own, but he figured that came with the reputation and the fact that Victor was number one. There was a slight twinge in his chest, remembering his utter failure in the Grand Prix Final. But he pushed the thought to the back of his head. It didn’t matter now. He could cry about it later, alone in his hotel room, but not now. Right now he needed to get a drunk gold medalist into bed, somehow. 

But when he turned around to Victor, he found himself colliding with him. Yuri’s face got temporarily buried into the taller man’s chest, before he regained his bearings.  
“Oh, sorry-“  
Yuri didn’t have time to utter more than that, before Victor’s lips were on his. Yuri’s mind blacked out, and then came back with full force. What? What was happening? Victor’s lips on his. His tongue… trying to get into his mouth. He felt himself blushing furiously. Then something in Yuri broke, in a good way, and he went in with abandon. Parting his lips slightly, he invited the silver-haired man’s tongue to invade his mouth. And God, it was exhilarating. 

The groan coming from Victor left nothing to be guessed. Seizing Yuri’s hips, he gradually motioned him toward the bed, before pushing the Japanese skater down. Yuri hit the mattress bouncing, while he struggled to breathe as Victor loomed over him. The older man first took off Yuri’s pale blue tie, and discarded it on the floor, before continuing to pepper his neck and collarbone with sloppy kisses. And the raven-haired man couldn’t help but let out a slow, appreciative moan.  
“V-Victor…”  
And apparently the Russian skater took this as an incentive, as he proceeded to rid Yuri of his shirt next. But at this, Yuri’s mind suddenly snapped back to reality. He put up a hand to Victor’s chest - and in doing so, vaguely remembered how the older man had lost his own tie halfway through a dance-off earlier in the evening.  
“Wait.” Yuri's voice came out panting and surprisingly hoarse. He briefly glanced down on the situation he was in – somehow Victor had managed to pull his legs up over Victor’s thighs, the older man being on his knees. Both of the men’s legs digging into the bedsheets. 

Crap. Yuri shut his eyes, almost forcibly, because he just – still – couldn’t believe what was happening. He forced himself to take a deep breath. But he couldn’t forget that he was incredibly hard. And he kept his eyes shut because he didn’t know what would happen if he looked upon Victor. Until… he felt a very, very gentle caress along his cheek. Hesitantly, he opened his eyes.  
And, damn. He found himself gazing upon the most exquisite face known to man – or at least to Yuri Katsuki. 

The face of Victor Nikiforov; not more than a few inches from his, and wearing the most charming smile. Yuri had to be lost into his ice blue eyes – there really was no other alternative – and again, found them to be clearer than he would have expected after all that booze. Victor dipped his face down slightly, just brushing Yuri’s lips with his.  
“Yuri.”  
A part of him was actually surprised that Victor even knew his name. Yes, they had unexpectedly spent most of the evening dancing, and having so much fun – but compared to Victor, Yuri felt like he was nobody. And, well, the Russian skater had drunk more than what was healthy, and could definitely be excused from not remembering the Japanese skater’s name. And Yuri Katsuki had regrettably finished last in the finals, failing miserably. But the fact that the five-time gold medalist knew his name sent all kinds of good vibrations through Yuri. He really liked the way Victor Nikiforov said his name. 

Said gold medalist continued to hover over Yuri’s lips in the most tantalising way, until he leaned down to capture the Japanese’s mouth with his own. When Victor’s tongue once again found its way into Yuri’s mouth, they both couldn’t help but sigh at the pleasurable sensation. Victor grew more fervent; pushing his tongue deeper into Yuri’s mouth, nibbling more desperately at his lips. Again, the Japanese couldn’t contain the moan escaping from his throat. 

Before he knew it, his shirt was on the floor. Wait a minute. This was exactly what he had stopped Victor from doing a moment ago. But goddamnit – feeling Victor’s hot breath against his neck, and his hands roaming all over Yuri’s body – well, it just left him dumbfounded in the best possible way. He really couldn’t control his body anymore, as it arched up against the older man, who took the opportunity to start sucking on Yuri’s nipples. The sensation sent a delightful shudder through the younger man’s whole body. 

God, he wanted him so much. He had always wanted him. But now? With Victor on top of him, kissing and licking all the right places – Yuri was ready to melt. And just let go. But there was one inhibition he couldn’t quite let go of, and that was his complete inexperience in this department. He had never been touched like this before, and he had never touched anyone else. Suddenly he became overly conscious of his hands, and where to put them. Experimentally, Yuri placed his hands on Victor’s hips. The older man immediately let out a grateful sigh, and pushed his crotch down into the younger’s – which made the latter tense up at the intimate contact. And now Yuri realised – quite firsthand – that Victor was also very hard. 

He now also realised exactly where this was going. Yuri had thought that his heart couldn't possibly beat any faster, but was proven wrong when Victor put a hand on his crotch. For a second he forgot to breathe. All he could comprehend was the warmth of the Russian’s touch, and the almost painful twitching of his own member. When Victor started to gently rub the bulge through the fabric of the underwear, Yuri gasped and closed his eyes.  
“Victor, I-“  
He didn’t get much further before he felt the elastics of his boxer briefs expand and suddenly, the feel of skin on skin. Oh God. Victor was touching him… there. The Japanese skater failed at keeping in a rather loud moan. His ears were ringing, to the extent that he didn’t hear Victor’s own small panting until his mouth was at Yuri’s ear. The Russian was definitely enjoying this, Yuri realised. Spurred on by this fact, he let his hands glide over Victor’s back, down to his ass. That would be the second time tonight he had grabbed Victor Nikiforov’s sublime ass. It was definitely shaping up to be one of Yuri Katsuki’s best days ever. 

Victor pulled up and unceremoniously stripped Yuri of his trousers. The black-haired man wondered how the hell he was able to keep his erection when all his blood evidently went to his face – he had never blushed so hard in his life; and he was quite good at it. But one look at the man currently straddling him, having now also stripped down to only his underwear, confirmed that maintaining an erection was no problem at all. Those icy blues gazing down at him, those perfectly sculpted abs… Yup, no problem whatsoever. 

But when Victor started to pull off Yuri’s underwear, the latter clumsily caught his wrist. The older man looked up through silvery bangs, with an expression Yuri didn’t quite know how to read. He swallowed hard.  
“Victor, I’ve… I’ve never done anything like this before.” His voice came out smaller than he had imagined, which made him feel even more inferior in the situation. Crap. Had he just made a fool out of himself? But when he met Victor’s gaze, he saw him cocking his head to the side in a way which could only be described as totally adorable.  
“You’ve never been with a man before?” Victor asked.  
Yuri slowly shook his head. He had gone too far to not be completely honest. Victor slightly raised an eyebrow.  
“You’ve never been with anyone?” the silver-haired man continued.  
Something in Yuri’s chest jumped – not because of the nature of the question, but because of the way it had been presented. Without any judgement; only as a simple question. As if he had been asked “What’s your favourite food?”. Although there was a hint of confusion in Victor's tone. 

Yuri exhaled, not realising that he had been holding his breath again. Before he knew it, Victor was back flush against him, chest against chest. Giving Yuri a chaste kiss, he slightly smiled.  
“I’m just a bit surprised, considering how you moved with me on the dance floor earlier.” He moved his lips down Yuri’s jaw and neck, kissing and lightly biting. “You sure seduced me.”  
The smaller man felt his blush coming back with full force. He didn’t feel like he could construct a full sentence anymore, but he gave it a try anyway.  
“It’s… It’s not a problem?” he ended up gasping, when Victor started sucking just above his collarbone. Plus, he was back at grinding into Yuri’s nether regions, which made the latter’s mind go into overdrive. 

Victor stopped nibbling at his neck and looked up with those beautiful, blue eyes. His silvery bangs just brushed against Yuri’s cheek; their proximity painful. Again, the Russian had such a charming, disarming smile on his face.  
“Of course not. Don't worry.”  
With those words he closed the distance between them and kissed the Japanese skater on the lips. It was a passionate, fiery exchange which left Yuri’s mind blank. With glazed eyes, he looked up at Victor, who continued in the most seductive of tones as he whispered onto Yuri’s lips:  
“I’ll coach you.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading my first YOI fan fiction! I hope you enjoyed it. Feel free to leave me comments!


	2. The Morning After

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter isn't racy like the first one - I hope no one's disappointed, haha. (Don't worry, all in good time.)

Victor woke up with a splitting headache. He pressed the palm of his hand against his forehead slightly, before sighing. What the hell? Just how much had he drunk last night at the banquet? To be honest, he wasn’t too concerned with making a fool out of himself. People could think whatever they wanted. But the hangover was something he could definitely live without – even though he knew he had brought it upon himself. Wouldn’t it be lovely, if he had someone else to blame? Well, even if that was the case, Victor wouldn’t be able to confront them about it. 

Since he remembered nothing at all from last night. 

No, he mused, as he carefully propped himself up in bed. That wasn't entirely true. He remembered dancing. He remembered… having fun, for the first time at one of those usually boring banquets. The thought brought an unexpected smile to his face, only to be followed by a wince. Ouch. His whole head was pounding. 

Victor realised when he removed the covers that he was naked. That wasn’t anything unusual in itself, as he normally slept naked – but he also noticed that he was… well, a bit sticky. Touching his own stomach and chest, it dawned on him just what this meant. And as it hadn't occurred to him before now, he turned around and looked at the other side of the bed. 

He was alone. 

Letting out a relieved sigh, he once again put a hand against his aching forehead. Had he… jerked off before falling asleep or something? Not something he would be proud of; but also not something that would be totally out of character when being in that drunken state. Victor had certainly had his fair share of one night stands, letting off steam, but if that had been the case last night and he couldn’t remember a thing… That would no doubt make him disappointed in himself. But, fortunately, the evidence pointed to him simply satisfying himself before passing out. 

Victor forced himself out of bed and into the shower. The hot droplets - washing off whatever last night’s shenanigans might have been - felt good on his skin, and by the time he stepped out of the cubicle his head felt a bit clearer. Wrapping a towel around his waist, he walked back into the bedroom. The floor was a mess of clothes scattered around. He gingerly picked up his underwear, his shirt… But couldn’t quite find his trousers. Ah – they had somehow been kicked underneath the bed. And what about his suit jacket? He found it tossed onto a chair just by the door. Shaking his head a bit at himself – he really didn’t remember doing any shedding of clothes – he proceeded to check the pockets for his phone. 

Of course - seven missed calls from Yakov. Victor had suspected as much. He had probably gone missing in action last night; knowing that when he was drunk, he did whatever he fancied. Granted, that was not too different from sober Victor, but it was especially bad when he had had a few too many. With his current hangover, he couldn’t think of anything less appealing than talking to his coach. He promised himself he would contact Yakov later in the day, or at least pick up next time he called. But for now, he simply placed his phone on the bedside table. And frowned when he noticed a strip of pale blue fabric on the floor. 

Victor bent down and picked it up. It was a silk tie; a bit creased from the knot it had been in. He held up the piece and continued to frown at it. Had he been wearing this tie last night? He hated pale blue when it came to ties. He knew he had been wearing a tie – it had been a formal event, after all – but had it really been this one? It just seemed… unlikely. Honestly, he couldn’t for the life of him remember. There was no other tie in the room, so… Well, it must be his. Even if he didn’t remember either owning or wearing it. Although that didn’t prove much since Victor owned more ties and suits than he could count. He contemplated the silk piece for another moment before letting out a small huff. Well either way, this was a horrible tie. He unceremoniously dropped it in the hotel room’s small trash bin, before proceeding to get dressed.

\--

Victor thanked his lucky stars that his flight back to St Petersburg wasn't until the day after tomorrow. Even if the flight wasn't long, he preferred to not be hungover while flying. He had previously convinced his coach to let him have an extra couple of days in Sochi, after the Grand Prix Final was over. 

By the time evening came, Victor felt composed enough to venture out for a bit of food (after getting an ear-full from Yakov about last night). It was either that or room service, which he had never taken a liking to. He preferred to walk the streets, find some welcoming place with good food, and interact with the people. Once back in St Petersburg, there would only be his lonely flat. Sure, he had the other skaters at the rink, who were pretty much considered his family – but he always jumped on the opportunity to mingle with new folk. 

It turned out that it wasn't the easiest feat to find a nice cozy restaurant – not because of any shortage of them, but because Victor had momentarily forgotten that he was indeed Victor Nikiforov and that he was still in Russia, where his following was the greatest. Especially after winning his fifth Grand Prix gold medal; people had no problem recognising Russia’s own national living legend. Victor himself frowned at those words. Was he not more than that? And how long was he supposed to live up to being a “living legend”, anyway? Everyone had their time. Maybe it was time for someone else to take the spotlight. Cause truth be told, Victor came closer and closer to being at a loss when it came to surprising the audience – the one thing he prided himself on most, the thing that spurred him on. 

After being stuck for twenty minutes, Victor gave up and returned to the hotel. Room service it was, then. Whatever. He didn’t feel like being nice tonight anyway. His head had started to pound again, no doubt brought on by the fan mobs, so when he stepped into the lobby he hurried towards the elevators. He just wanted to crawl into bed. That need was so great, that he disregarded his surroundings and foolishly rushed into the elevator as soon as the doors opened – only to run smack-dab into someone. 

“Sorry!”  
Victor barely registered the apology, spoken with a slightly accented English. He had shut his eyes, letting out a displeased grunt at the collision. The run-in had only worsened his headache. When he opened his eyes again, and looked upon the person he had collided with, he saw the most exquisite blush he had ever seen. Really, the man in front of him wore a most furious shade of red on his face. And for some reason, his stare was curiously penetrating. Ah! Victor remembered now. 

This was the Japanese skater, right? What was his name again? Katsuki! That’s right. And sharing a first name with his rink mate, Yuri Plisetsky. So, Yuri Katsuki. Right. He had finished last in the finals, Victor recalled. For a split second he found himself wondering why that was. He had obviously seen Yuri Katsuki skate – and the Japanese skater was good. Especially the way his body moved to the music. 

They stood frozen after the collision only for a few seconds, but Victor found himself staring back into Yuri’s face, marvelling at his expression. Yes, he was a ridiculous shade of red. And Victor couldn’t help but let the corners of his mouth slightly twitch. Not in degrading amusement, no. But because the Japanese boy standing in front of him – still flushed against his chest, he might add – was seriously cute. Somehow the blush on his cheeks made the brown in his eyes pop. Victor found himself lost in those expressive eyes, if only for a moment. 

The weird spell was broken when Yuri cleared his throat and distanced himself from Victor. The shorter man looked down on the floor and started to fiddle with the handle of his suitcase, an item which Victor had just noticed. So, he was on his way home? At the back of his mind, Victor wondered how long it would take to fly from Russia to Japan, but he didn’t give it more thought. But he did deduct that Yuri must be a fan of his, with the furious (although, adorable) blush. 

“Yuri, right?” Victor said in a cheerful tone – much more cheerful than he thought he had been capable of, considering how he was currently feeling.  
At this, the Japanese flicked his eyes back up to Victor’s – and the expression on his face was… not what Victor had expected. He couldn’t even describe it. It was like a mix of shock and confusion. And something like… understanding? But the worst part was the apparent sadness in Yuri’s eyes. Those big, beautiful brown eyes… Victor had to close his own eyes for a moment and compose himself. He found his heart suddenly pounding a bit more than normal. What had gotten into him? Was he still drunk from last night? Shouldn’t the alcohol have left his system by now? When he opened his eyes again, he found Yuri Katsuki’s eyes slightly glazed over, and his gaze pointing downwards. Oh God, what had Victor said? He had only said his name, right? Then what was wrong? 

Yuri swallowed hard before gripping tightly onto the handle of his suitcase. With his eyes still locked onto the floor, he was halfway past the taller man before he spoke.  
“Goodbye, Victor,” he said with such a small voice that Victor barely heard him. 

Victor found himself helplessly looking at Yuri Katsuki’s back, as the shorter man headed for the exit. What… had just happened? What did Victor do? He had only wanted to talk to the man. There was something about him… Something which Victor couldn’t quite wrap his head around. 

\--

A few days later, Victor was back practicing at the St Petersburg rink. After landing his seventh quadruple flip perfectly, he all but ignored Yakov and instead skated over to the rinkside to grab a water bottle to rehydrate. He felt frustrated. Somewhere along the way, he had lost the inspiration to surprise. As he gulped down the cool water, he noticed Yuri Plisetsky standing a few metres away, showing Mila Babicheva something on his phone. By the look on young Yuri’s face, it was something he didn’t approve of. Which, to be fair, was most things in life. 

Victor casually skated over to the pair and offered a happy smile.  
“What are you looking at? Can I see? Come on, show me.”  
He had discovered that speaking rapidly in an overly cheerful tone quite aggravated the 15-year-old, and for some reason Victor found it endlessly amusing. Which was why he wasn’t fazed at all by the absolute glare he was rewarded with in return. The young skater scoffed.  
“You sure you want to see this, old man?”  
“Why yes, what is it?” Victor’s tone was still effortlessly cheerful.  
“It’s you. Stupid geezer,” Yuri continued, as he handed the phone to Victor, with surprisingly little hesitation. 

When Victor looked upon the photo displayed on the phone screen, his positive demeanour faltered slightly. Sure enough, it was a photo of him. Dancing. And not very modestly, either. What..? When..? He had to compose himself as he continued scrolling through the photos. Wait a minute. He recognised that venue.  
“Was… Was this..?”  
“The Grand Prix banquet, stupid,” Yuri retorted. “Figures you wouldn’t remember, the way you guzzled down champagne like you were a rockstar or something.”  
The 15-year-old tried to take his phone back, but Victor dodged his hands. Cause he had just come across a very, very interesting photo. 

One of himself, dancing and smiling, with none other than… Japanese skater Yuri Katsuki. Victor blinked a couple of times, before he had to squint at the small screen. Was he seeing this correctly? Victor had his hands on Yuri, leading him in what seemed like a flamenco. Their movements together over the next few frames spoke of a sensual, downright intimate, dance. But the thing that stood out the most wasn't their body gestures. It was their faces. They both looked… so happy. 

Plisetsky tried to grab his phone again, while shouting something surely obscene that Victor frankly didn’t even register. It was a good thing that the older skater was quite a lot taller and bigger than the fair-haired youngster, as he could easily keep the phone to himself. And in a worst case scenario (or best case?); he could always use the water bottle he was still holding to spray the young skater like a cat. The thought sure was amusing, but Victor immediately forgot about it when he took another close look at one of the photos – and noticed something which made his breath hitch in his throat. He felt the water bottle starting to slide out of his grip.

Yuri Katsuki.

Wearing a pale blue silk tie.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for continuing to read my fanfic! Feel free to share it :)


	3. Keep Me Company

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> THANK YOU SO MUCH for all the sweet comments I've received so far! I am seriously thrilled that you like what I've written. So here is Chapter 3 a day early! :)
> 
>    
> So... I guess I have a thing for encounters in elevators.

A few months later, it was time for Worlds. After the Grand Prix, Yuri had struggled to find the motivation to continue – but his coach Celestino had encouraged him to go on. Even if Yuri had agreed, truth was that he was still on the fence about calling it quits or not. Was he really that good of a skater? He certainly didn’t feel like it. He just felt like he kept failing. But somehow he had made it to another big final, and Yuri didn’t really know what to think about that.

It wasn’t just the nagging doubt about his own abilities as an athlete that made him apprehensive about appearing in the final. He knew that Victor Nikiforov would also be there.

And Yuri also knew that Victor apparently didn’t remember anything about the night they had spent together after the GP banquet. He had gathered as much when he had unexpectedly run into the Russian the day after, and the latter had addressed him in such a questioning tone. And had looked at him with eyes that spoke of no certain recognition. Granted, Yuri had quietly left before the other skater had woken up, and maybe he shouldn't have… But he had been too embarrassed to stay until morning. In the end, he honestly wasn't surprised that the Russian didn’t remember. Victor had been seriously drunk. Still… It hurt. It hurt that it had been the best night of Yuri Katsuki’s life; and the person he had spent it with didn’t remember.

The Japanese skater couldn’t help but blush – still, months later – when remembering what they had gotten up to in Victor’s hotel room. How the silver-haired man had managed to find all of Yuri’s sweet spots – spots that Yuri hadn’t known were sweet to him until that point. How the older man had licked and sucked and touched… Yuri had to briefly close his eyes to compose himself. He was almost at the check-in desk at the hotel, and he couldn’t very well walk up with a fierce blush on his face, and most likely (if he kept on thinking about that night), a semi-hard boner.

After receiving his key card and parting with Celestino, Yuri proceeded to go to his room for some rest. Stepping into the elevators, he once again thought back on his last encounter with Victor. And fretted about the fact that not only would he see him at the competition, but Victor was most likely staying at the very same hotel. Oh God, he hoped he wouldn’t run into him. Even if the Russian skater didn’t remember all the sinful things they had occupied themselves with, Yuri certainly did – and would no doubt not be able to keep any kind of cool in front of his idol now. Not that he had ever been particularly capable of keeping cool, and especially not concerning Victor. But it was a thousand times worse now. Yuri berated himself for not being able to get it out of his head.

Victor’s hand, sliding up and down his swollen length. Victor’s haphazard breath in his ear, full of lust. Victor’s expression as he looked down on Yuri, just before entering him. The scent of Victor’s cologne, which had lingered with Yuri for days afterwards.

Yuri started when the elevator pinged and the doors opened. Goddamnit. He had to get his head in the game if he didn’t want another utter failure during the competition. Even is this were to be his last competition, he still needed to do his best. For everyone back home… his family, Minako, Celestino... Everyone who had cheered him on. Sighing, he walked towards his room. His anxiety didn’t exactly subdue because of those expectations. More like they just fuelled his so often panic-stricken mind. But he didn’t want to let the people who cared for him down.

\--

Yuri had a couple of days free before the Short Program. He spent them practicing, trying to perfect all the jumps he still sometimes struggled with during actual competition. But after flubbing his quadruple toe loop for the fourth time, he had to call it a day. Not because he wanted to, but because his body ached more than he would care for – especially right before a competition. Either way, Celestino basically shooed him off the ice, and quite sternly told him to get some rest. Maybe Yuri had been overdoing it. But he still felt like this was his last chance to prove himself.

Feeling somewhat deflated, Yuri returned to the hotel. He was still mostly slicked with sweat as he walked through the lobby, and pressed the elevator button. He looked forward to a nice, long shower when he got to his hotel room. And since he had nothing else planned for the evening, he thought he might as well turn in early. It was the first day of the competition tomorrow, after all. When the elevator made a ping, signalling that the lift had arrived, Yuri automatically took a step forward to enter. But stopped short.

He found himself face to face with Victor Nikiforov.

Of all the goddamn people. It had to be Victor.

Yuri really couldn’t read Victor’s expression when the latter laid eyes on him. The Japanese skater knew he must have been blushing like crazy – but what else was new. He actually forgot about his own embarrassment for a moment, and just studied the Russian’s face. Cause suddenly it spoke of more things. More than just someone you’d see in passing; more than the number one skater looking at someone lesser. It was almost like… recognition? But no, that couldn’t be it. Victor didn’t remember anything. Yuri knew that, for sure. There was really no way… By the time Yuri remembered to stop staring and observing, a good ten seconds had passed, and the elevator doors had started to close again.

Victor swiftly put out a hand to stop them, and the doors slid open again.  
“Uh… Are you going up?” the Russian asked, tentatively.  
Yuri was slightly surprised by his hesitant tone. He had never seen the Victor Nikiforov look and sound so… shy. Almost vulnerable. He cleared his throat, just to bring himself back to the present.  
“Y-yeah. Yes.”  
Yuri stepped into the elevator, stood awkwardly next to his idol, and was at a loss at what to do next. Well, he just had to ride the elevator up with Victor, right? And then get out. And then walk away. And definitely, definitely not look back or engage in conversation. Then it dawned on him; and he was the one to put his hand out to prevent the elevator doors from closing.

Victor glanced at him, still wearing an expression that was unreadable.  
“You.. You were getting off here, r-right?” Yuri said, and he could hear just how stiff his voice sounded. He didn’t think he was wrong – Victor must have been about to get off when the elevator doors opened, right? – but what if it sounded like he was kicking him out? From an elevator, in a hotel, which was public property, after all… Damnit. Yuri really needed to rein in his galloping thoughts before he made even more of a fool out of himself.

Suddenly Victor shed his tentative expression, and replaced it with his trademark confident grin. He chuckled slightly. Yuri really didn't know what to make of that.  
“Yes. Yes, you’re right.”  
With those words, Victor stepped out of the elevator, but looked back at Yuri before the elevator doors closed. And once again, the expression on Victor's face had changed. The last impression Yuri got from his idol, before the metal doors slid shut, was one that almost looked like affection.

\--

After the short program, Yuri was in 14th place. He was still in the bottom half, but he was actually surprised by how high his score had been. He never thought he did such a great job on the ice when it really mattered. But at least he had qualified for the free skate which would take place in a couple of days.

Victor had obviously placed first – no surprise there. He was no doubt going to win another gold. By this point, no one expected anything else. Yuri found himself wondering what that sort of pressure must feel like. He already felt enough pressure as it was, and he was sure he was never going to win a gold medal. And no one expected him to, not really. So either Victor felt the weight of the world on his shoulders, or he just breezed through everything without much care and thought. Yuri didn’t know which was true, and it was pointless trying to figure the Russian skater out. He was an enigma: one that Yuri really had to get out of his head.

The Japanese was halfway down the hall to his hotel room – having just parted with his coach after returning from the competition rink – when he heard someone call out to him from behind. He couldn’t help but furrow his eyebrows. Who could be calling his name? He wasn’t exactly friendly with the other skaters. They weren't on bad terms by any means, but there was no one who would particularly engage in conversation with him. When the voice called out again, Yuri’s heart skipped a beat. Wait a minute… Wasn’t that..?

“Yuri!” Victor caught up with the Japanese skater as he hesitantly turned around. The blood which had just been drained from Yuri’s face came rushing back, as he found himself in close proximity to Victor. Dumbstruck, Yuri just stared at the Russian for a few seconds without replying. What… What could he possibly want?

Victor smiled that heart-shaped smile that he never showed to the press and fans. Yuri didn’t want to admit it, but it made him weak in the knees.  
“I’m so glad I caught you!” the silver-haired man continued, not taking note of Yuri's hesitation and awkwardness. Maybe he was being polite. Or maybe just oblivious.  
“I thought your short program was really great today. Would you like to come to my room and watch a movie? And we can open up the mini bar.”  
Yuri blinked a few times. What the hell was Victor saying? What was going on? Why was he talking so rapidly and cheerfully and just inviting Yuri to his room? Was he joking? Was he drunk, again? He couldn’t be, cause he had just come from the competition, just like Yuri. _What was going on?_

The Russian seemed to be awaiting Yuri’s reply, looking at him eagerly. The Japanese struggled to make sense of his raging stream of thoughts.  
“Uh… A-a movie? I don’t know... I-I’m pretty tired…”, he began, avoiding the taller man’s eyes as he spoke.  
Victor’s expression faltered – and damn if it didn’t make Yuri's heart ache.  
“Oh, okay. I just wanted some company.”  
At this, Yuri had to furrow his eyebrows once again. He swallowed hard. Did he even want to ask this?  
“But… Why me?”  
He wasn't prepared for the look Victor would give him, and it pierced right through his chest. Victor looked at him with such an innocent, pure expression. He was stunning.  
“Why not you? Let’s get to know each other better.”

Yuri’s breath hitched in his throat. What was Victor saying, exactly? Was he just being friendly, or… did he remember? There was no way that Yuri would ever bring it up though; so unless Victor explicitly came out saying he recalled how he had blissfully pounded Yuri a few months ago, it would have to go unsaid. Although, knowing Victor, he might as well just suddenly announce that he remembered their night of unabashed sex. Possibly with a few witnesses to overhear it, too. If there was one thing about Victor Nikiforov, it was that he was unpredictable and never short of surprises.

The Russian skater kept his eyes on Yuri, like he was waiting for him to crumble – and the Japanese did. What would be the harm, really? They would just watch a movie, right? That was a good excuse not to talk, too. Yuri cleared his throat.  
“O-okay. Sure. Let me just… Let me take a shower first.”  
Victor’s whole face lit up. It was so adorable that Yuri had to steady his stance.  
“Great!” the silver-haired man exclaimed with that heart-shaped smile. “My room number is 405, it’s just down the hall. Just knock when you come over.”  
Again, he was talking rapidly and cheerfully in that charming Russian accent of his, and if Yuri still wasn't coming down from the initial shock of being invited in the first place, he might have just found himself smiling. God, what had he gotten himself into now?

\--

Half an hour later, Yuri found himself awkwardly sitting on the edge of Victor’s hotel bed, flicking through the options on the TV.  
“So… What do you want to watch?” he asked shyly. He couldn’t deny that he felt a bit uncomfortable. Although Victor seemed to be at ease, walking over to sit next to Yuri and handing him a glass of wine. The Japanese man stared down into his drink for a moment, reliving flashbacks from _that night_. He reminded himself to keep Victor from getting too drunk.

“I like romantic films,” Victor stated as he leaned back on one hand. “The ones where they get each other in the end.”  
Yuri was afraid to look at him, as he knew Victor was wearing a flirty expression which would only demolish Yuri’s mind. So he slowly continued to press the buttons on the remote, keeping his eyes glued to the TV screen.  
“Right. Um… What about this one then?” he asked, pausing at a romantic comedy which had been released the year before.  
“I think I’ve seen that one,” Victor replied, turning his attention to the TV as well. Then his eyes lit up. “Oh! That one, Yuri!”  
The younger man looked at the movie Victor was referring to, and felt his blood run cold.  
“Victor… That’s a horror movie.” He spoke slowly and deliberately, like he was talking to a child.  
“Yes, let’s watch it.” Victor on the other hand, sounded thoroughly excited.  
The Russian was already enthusiastically making himself comfortable at the head of the bed. And Yuri just stared at him. That decision went against just about everything Victor had stated just a moment before.  
“You… You sure you want to watch this?” Yuri asked, gesturing vaguely with the remote.  
The silver-haired man looked at him quizzically. Then his features softened.  
“Oh, do you not like scary films? Don’t worry, I’ll be here to comfort you.”

Yuri had to remind himself to stay calm. Was Victor really flirting with him, or was it just his imagination? No, this was just the way Victor behaved towards everybody, right? Noticing Yuri’s hesitation, the Russian spoke again.  
“If you really don’t want to watch it, we’ll pick something else.” His tone was soft and kind, and something in Yuri just melted. Whatever – he didn’t care to analyse everything anymore (or at least he could tell himself that).  
“No, it’s fine. Let’s watch it.”  
Victor smiled and patted the spot next to him by the propped up pillows. Yuri hesitantly moved over and leaned back against the headboard – painfully aware of the fact that the last time he had been in a bed with the skating god, it had been… a lot sweatier.

Yuri found himself struggling to focus on the movie – which in hindsight might have been a good thing, since it was gory and totally nightmare-inducing. Victor had seemed to have been into it though; he once clung onto the younger man for a good ten minutes, citing being too scared (so much for offering Yuri comfort). Yuri really began to wonder if that had been the older man’s intention all along. He honestly wouldn’t put it past him.

After finishing the movie and polishing off a bottle of wine, Yuri took his leave.  
“Thank you for keeping me company,” Victor said as he leaned against the side of the open door, seeing Yuri out. “I had fun.”  
There was something about his genuine tone that made Yuri hesitate. Did Victor Nikiforov just say he had fun spending time with Yuri Katsuki? And he wasn’t nearly as drunk as he had been after the banquet. In fact, neither of them was drunk at all. Although the slight buzz the Japanese man was feeling increased dramatically when Victor suddenly leaned in and placed a gentle kiss on his cheek.

Yuri didn’t know why he didn’t jump, or at least pull away before Victor’s lips could have made contact with his skin. And even though his heart beat rapidly in his chest, he didn’t move. But when Victor shifted and lingered a bit too long just by Yuri’s mouth, the latter regained his senses and took a step back. Fast enough to slam into the door frame.  
“G-good night, Victor. Th-thanks for the wine,” he heard himself ramble on as he quickly moved out into the corridor. He was halfway down it when he once again heard Victor’s sing-song Russian accent.  
“Good night, Yuri! Sweet dreams!”

Yuri Katsuki was going to have some interesting dreams that night, that was for sure.


	4. Thunder and Lightning

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ... Things get exciting.

Victor watched as Yuri performed his free skate. The Japanese skater was good. Why didn’t he have more confidence? He certainly had Victor mesmerised, and that happened less and less these days. The Russian man thought back on how he had called out a good luck cheer just before the younger man took the ice. Then he quietly chuckled to himself, remembering how Yuri’s face had turned a most adorable shade of red. Victor was a good sport and all, but he didn’t have a habit of shouting out encouragements to all the other skaters competing. He hoped that Yuri realised that he was… special. 

He didn’t know exactly what it was about Yuri Katsuki. It wasn't just the realisation that they had danced and laughed together during the GP banquet (and the subsequent evidence that something more had possibly happened in Victor’s hotel room that night); Victor had come to realise that that wasn't really who the Japanese man was. No, he was shy and reserved. Thoughtful. And, to Victor, endlessly intriguing. Maybe it was the way his body moved to the music, which had always enticed Victor ever since he came to know of Yuri’s skating. But his skating wasn’t all that he was – there was something more, much more. 

And Victor had decided to find out just how much there was to Yuri Katsuki. 

His eyes were still glued to the Japanese on the ice, as he witnessed the skater flub his quadruple salchow and fall hard. Victor involuntarily gasped. Luckily, Yuri recovered and was back on his feet quickly – but that must have hurt. The Russian himself knew all too well the strains skating put on the body, but it had been a while since he had fallen from a mistake. Sadly, he noted, Yuri Katsuki wouldn't place on the podium – and probably not even in the top ten. As he watched Yuri finish his FS, Victor took a deep breath. Alright. Time for him to get into competition mode, and focus on his own performance. No matter how tedious it had all become. 

\--

Two days later, Victor – after, as expected, winning the gold medal – was supposed to fly back to St Petersburg. But as the afternoon came, so did a raging thunderstorm; a weather bad enough to cancel all flights scheduled. Suddenly finding himself stuck at the hotel with nothing to do but wait, Victor informed Yakov that he would simply take a stroll within the building. Ignoring his coach’s sour expression and stern warning not to get into trouble, the Russian skater ventured down into the lobby. 

Victor hadn't been fully aware of what he had been hoping for, until he spotted the Japanese skater standing around with his coach. Fiddling with his phone, Yuri was slightly leaning against his suitcase. Celestino was engaging in a conversation with the desk clerk, while the black-haired young man seemed oblivious to his surroundings. Which of course gave Victor an opportunity to sneak up on him. 

“Hi Yuri!”  
The rather loud exclamation made the shorter man jump, and he nearly dropped his phone. Victor had to suppress a chuckle. Damn, Yuri was cute.  
“I’m guessing your flight is cancelled too?” Victor continued, beaming with a heart-shaped smile while watching how the Japanese awkwardly adjusted his glasses after the shock.  
“Yeah, we were on our way out but just heard. It’s really coming down, huh.”  
Pleased that Yuri actually kept up a conversation with him, Victor continued.  
“So you’re staying at the hotel a bit longer?”  
Yuri eyed him suspiciously, but Victor didn’t let his smile falter.  
“Mm. Celestino’s currently working it out with the staff,” Yuri replied, vaguely gesturing towards his coach. 

The two men startled suddenly, as thunder loudly struck close by. The storm was rapidly getting worse. Yuri began to fidget, but Victor’s eyes lit up. He had just had an idea. Grabbing Yuri’s glove-clothed hand, he motioned for him to follow. The younger man instantly resisted.  
“Victor-? What-?”  
“Come with me, Yuri. Please.”  
“B-but my suitcase… Celestino-“  
“Will take care of it for you,” the silver-haired man interrupted. “Don’t worry. Just follow me.”  
Feeling Yuri giving in, Victor smiled as he continued to pull the other man along. 

Victor brought the Japanese skater up to the near-top of the building, just one story short of the roof terrace. It was some sort of banquet hall, with one side of the room completely made of glass – making it the perfect setting to view the storm’s havoc. Victor couldn't help but smile when he noticed Yuri's reaction.  
“Wow…” the raven-haired man stated in awe, as he removed the gloves he was wearing. From here, they could perfectly see how the lightning danced across the darkened sky, and how the thunderclouds lit up from time to time in the distance. 

“Why… How did you even know about this place?” Yuri asked, but without taking his eyes off the magnificent display. Victor shifted his own gaze from the Japanese to the storm outside.  
“I stayed at this hotel once before, years ago,” Victor explained. “I happened upon it when I was bored and explored.”  
Yuri glanced at him.  
“Are we even allowed in here? I mean…”  
“No one will know.” Victor looked back and met Yuri’s eyes. “Don’t you trust me?”  
The shorter man hesitated for a moment, perhaps surprised by the straight-forward question. But after a moment, he slowly nodded.  
“Yeah, I trust you.”

Victor hadn't expected to be as pleased about that answer as he found himself to be. He was breaking through Yuri Katsuki's wall, and he was thrilled. After a moment, Yuri became awkward and broke their eye contact and looked out the window once again. Victor, however, kept his eyes on the man beside him. As lightning lit up the sky, it reflected in Yuri’s glasses. And Yuri’s face lit up in a shy smile.  
“It’s beautiful,” he said quietly, like it was mostly to himself. 

Something in Victor’s chest started throbbing. He inhaled, trying to calm himself down – before he decided: to hell with it. Why should he calm down when the storm inside him could battle the one currently taking place outside? He had always been a man of action. That was just who he was.  
Victor reached over, and took Yuri’s hand in his.  
“Yes, it is,” he said, referring to the other man’s statement from just a moment before. But Victor wasn’t looking at the storm anymore. 

Yuri started a little at the sudden contact, and his breathing seemed to get a bit louder, but he didn’t pull away. His hand felt warm in Victor’s, as he shyly looked up to meet his gaze. Yes – to hell with it. Moving slowly, Victor began to close the short distance between them, keeping his eyes on Yuri’s the whole time. When the Japanese held eye-contact, Victor’s mind went blank for a second. God, had he ever seen such beautiful eyes before? He really didn’t think so. The storm’s noise faded in his ears. Right now, there was only Yuri Katsuki in Victor Nikiforov's world. 

Gently, the taller man laid his forehead against the shorter man’s. Sensing Yuri deeply inhaling, but still not pulling away, Victor slightly moved his head to the side. The Japanese man’s lips were so close now. Victor really couldn’t hold back anymore. Closing the gap, he pressed his lips against Yuri’s – a slow, careful kiss. And when the younger man kissed him back, the Russian didn’t hesitate to go in for more. God, he wanted so much more. Forgetting to keep his breathing even, he cocked his head further to deepen the kiss. He felt Yuri gasp, which gave Victor the opportunity to taste his tongue with his own. He snuck his arms around the shorter man’s waist, pulling him closer. 

After a moment they had to stop to catch their breaths. Victor swallowed hard; savouring the sweet taste of Yuri. Once again he lightly rested his forehead against the smaller man’s, slightly dishevelling the latter’s glasses.  
“Yuri, I’m sorry.”  
The Japanese looked up at him – fiercely blushing and still trying to control his breathing.  
“What for?”  
God, the huskiness of Yuri’s voice when he had just been kissed. It did something to Victor’s lower belly, and he had to breathe in to compose himself.  
“For not remembering that night,” the Russian finished with a sigh, still keeping his forehead flush against the other man’s. 

He felt Yuri grow tense in his arms. The cute Japanese turned even more red; which at this point seemed impossible, but Victor witnessed it first-hand. And felt his own blood rush to his head. Cause damn, Yuri did something to him. Something which made him feel light-headed and tingly all over.  
“What...” Yuri began, but stopped himself to clear his throat awkwardly. “Do you remember anything?” His voice was quiet, hesitant. Almost like he was afraid.  
Victor cupped the other man’s cheek, in an attempt to reassure him. But the truth was – he felt afraid too. Afraid to let his own budding feelings show. But most of all – afraid to hurt the man before him. Cause that simply would not do. 

“I remember… dancing. With you.” Victor said, and graced his face with a slight smile. He gently propped up Yuri’s arms into a dancing pose. When the shorter man couldn’t help but smile – oh so adorably – Victor chuckled and casually started swaying with him. The taller man continued to motion the both of them around.  
“And I do believe I was dry-humping you, at one point.”  
Yuri stopped short at the Russian’s straight-forward statement, obviously embarrassed. The Japanese lowered his eyes while the blush intensified further on his face.  
“U-um, that… yeah… uh...” he stuttered.  
Before Victor could tell the man to calm down (even if watching him fidget also did something strangely wonderful to his whole being) – lightning suddenly struck outside; illuminating the space they stood in. And only a second later, a loud bang followed. 

The Japanese skater jumped – consciously or unconsciously – further into Victor’s embrace. The Russian instinctively tightened his arms around him. And, finding himself even closer to the raven-haired man, his heartbeat accelerated. Oh… Oh, Victor revelled on the inside, being this close to Yuri Katsuki. What exactly had gotten into him? It was something he hadn’t fully experienced before. There was certainly something about the Japanese skater. Victor was intrigued, and quite frankly – totally smitten. Leaning in to press his lips against Yuri’s again, he sighed in contentment. 

The smaller man practically melted into his arms, and it took quite a lot of willpower from Victor to eventually distance himself from him. Breathing heavily, he locked his eyes onto those beautiful brown ones.  
“Will you come back to my hotel room?” the older man asked, his voice throaty and thick.  
Yuri inhaled quite sharply, and shyly lowered his eyes. But it didn’t take long before he brought his gaze back up to meet Victor’s, and continued:  
“Okay.”

\--

“D-do you want to watch another movie?” Yuri asked, as he nervously scrolled through the choices on the TV-screen in Victor’s hotel room. He was once again situated at the end of the bed, and couldn’t seem to stop fidgeting. Victor calmly walked over to the Japanese, and took the remote control from his hands.  
“Didn’t your mother ever teach you that you shouldn't use the television during a thunderstorm?” he asked, as he turned off the TV and put the remote away.  
“R-right,” Yuri replied, dodging the Russian's intense gaze. 

Victor kept standing up, but carefully rested a knee next to the other man’s thigh on the bed. Gazing down on the raven-haired Japanese, he was suddenly mesmerised by the blackness of the strands. The hair looked so soft. Before he could stop himself, Victor gently ran some fingers through it. The silky feel made him smile to himself. He had been right – Yuri’s hair was super-soft. 

The younger man looked up at the contact. His face was as red as ever, but at least he had stopped fidgeting. Maybe playing with his hair calmed him down? Victor mused. As if to test the theory, he ran his fingers through the black strands again; slowly – and in a way, lovingly. It was the only way to explain the gentle touch. And sure enough, Yuri seemed to relax further. 

Victor held his gaze and began to speak.  
“We don't have to do anything you don't want,” he said calmly and reassuringly. He knew Yuri was uneasy with physical contact – he had gathered as much, especially when he had experimentally clung onto the younger skater during the horror movie – so even if they had kissed earlier, it didn’t mean they had to go further tonight. No matter how much Victor wanted to kiss and hold Yuri… Among other things.  
“We can just talk,” he continued, gauging the other man’s reaction. When the Japanese hesitated, he suddenly felt nervous. Maybe he had changed his mind about coming back with Victor? Did he want to leave, and be alone? Was Victor coming on too strong? The Russian knew that he could be overbearing. Crap. Had he fucked up?

His stream of worried thoughts came to a halt when Yuri suddenly stood up, and pressed his lips against Victor’s. The latter had to keep in a slightly surprised yelp. Woah! Had the shy skater actually made the first move? The taller man felt a warm, pleasant feeling spreading through his chest – he was pretty sure Yuri Katsuki wasn't this daring with just anyone. He knew that he was idolised by the Japanese skater, but… Victor hoped that he was special to him in a different way, too. Just like Yuri had quickly become special to him.

The silver-haired man wasn't able to suppress a smile when Yuri pulled away. The latter looked so adorable, blushing and stuttering.  
“Wh-why are you smiling?” he asked when Victor’s goofy grin didn’t subside. The older man chuckled quietly.  
“I think you know the answer to that,” he replied as he once again moved in closer, until they could feel each other’s breaths. “I was just kissed by a very sexy Japanese skater.”  
Victor guessed that not many people had called Yuri sexy (at least not to his face), judging from his reaction to the word. Well, the Russian had only spoken the truth. He found Yuri Katsuki incredibly sexy, and wanted to do nearly unspeakable things to him… But he waited patiently as Yuri seemed to compose himself.  
“Victor… I-I didn’t come here to watch a movie.”  
“I should hope not.”  
“Or… talk.”  
“No?” On the inside, Victor was ridiculously elated, even if he kept his tone level and calm. He brought a hand up to Yuri’s cheek to gently caress it, and cocked his head to the side.  
“Then why did you come here?” 

He knew he was teasing, but he just wanted to hear the other man say it. He needed to hear from Yuri’s own mouth just what he wanted Victor to do to him. Oh, just the thought of it sent delightful shivers down the Russian man’s spine. He watched as the Japanese swallowed hard and inhaled.  
“I want… you,” Yuri managed to say; his voice steadier than one might have expected. Victor smiled seductively in turn.  
“To do what?”  
He knew he should have felt sorry for the poor boy, the way he kept teasing him. But Victor couldn’t help but love it. And the younger man’s reactions were so cute that he just couldn’t stop himself. 

Yuri had clammed up, unable to voice his desires. Finally cutting him some slack, Victor gently pushed him back onto the bed, before descending on him. Latching his lips onto Yuri’s, he slipped his tongue in-between them to taste. Sensing the smaller man’s appreciative moan, Victor proceeded to slip a hand underneath the fabric of the former’s shirt. Tracing his fingers across the toned abs, he gradually broke the kiss.  
“Maybe something like this?” he asked, and was surprised by the hoarseness of his own voice. There was just something about Yuri’s skin… The feel of it exhilarated the older skater. 

“Yes...” Yuri gasped, before Victor crashed his mouth onto his once again. Their kisses grew more fervent, and Victor’s hands grew bolder. They were both panting as the taller man sat up to straddle the shorter one. Carefully, he reached down to remove Yuri’s glasses, before pulling off the latter’s shirt. The sight before him was certainly a feast for the eyes – Yuri Katsuki; half-naked and panting underneath him. Victor hummed in appreciation and felt his pants get even tighter around the swelling in his briefs. He gazed down, taking in every visible inch of the Japanese’s body (he would certainly do some more exploring later), and smiled. 

“So, Yuri… What exactly do you want me to do to you?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> BAM. The next chapter - which is the last one! - will be spicy ;)


	5. Offers We Can't Refuse

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is the final chapter! (From both Yuri's and Victor's POV.)  
> I'm finishing this story the way I started it - with good ol' smut. ;)
> 
>  
> 
> *explicit content*

 

As Victor Nikiforov slowly, delicately, licked up the length of Yuri’s thigh, the latter let out a shivering moan. He couldn’t believe this was happening – AGAIN. Yes, he had asked for it. Yes, he had even initiated it, at least partially. But not in a million years had Yuri Katsuki actually imagined it would happen again.

Christ – he was still coming to terms with it happening the first time.

When the Russian’s mouth found Yuri's balls, the latter gasped violently. And it didn’t take long before Victor's tongue slid up the length of the Japanese’s cock, before teasing the tip. Yuri’s mind went from swirling to silent. For just a moment, there was only him and Victor – and the hotness of the silver-haired man’s mouth, taking him in. Before he knew it, Yuri let out a most embarrassing sound.

Victor released Yuri’s member, and looked up with a slight smile. He figured it wouldn’t do to overstimulate the younger man – then this would be over way too soon. No, the Russian wanted this to last as long as possible. And he wanted to make Yuri Katsuki feel great. He moved up to hover over the smaller man.

“Well? What else do you want me to do to you?” he asked, not being able to keep a slight grin off his face. God, he was enjoying this. Right now, there was only Yuri and himself; naked and splayed out on his hotel room bed. And the way the Japanese skater looked at him, with those beautiful brown eyes, sent all sorts of pleasurable vibrations through the Russian’s body.

Yuri stared at the other man for a second. Well, just what did he want to have done to him? Christ – he would let Victor Nikiforov do just about anything he wanted. So… Yuri took a deep breath, and tried his best to look the other man in the eyes.  
“You… You can do whatever you want with me.”  
The expression on Victor’s face was unexpected. Was he… actually blushing? Yuri had never seen the Russian blush before. Somehow it empowered Yuri. Also, the fact that he remembered their first sexcapade while the older man didn’t, made him feel like he had the upper hand.

The memories of that fateful night came rushing back to the Japanese. He seemed to remember that Victor’s nipples were an especially erogenous zone for him. Before he could think it through, he had brought a hand up to the larger man’s chest where he gently began rubbing the left nipple. The reaction was instantaneous. The silver-haired man gasped and his nipple hardened under Yuri’s touch. Spurred on, the Japanese continued.

Victor couldn’t hold in a moan when Yuri suddenly pinched his nipple. Fuck – the Russian’s nipples had always been a sensitive spot. How did Yuri know exactly where to press? Then it dawned on him. Silly Victor. This wasn’t the first time they had been intimate. It still pained him greatly that he wasn’t able to remember the banquet night. Cause he didn’t want to forget anything about Yuri Katsuki. Not the feel of his raven hair, not the curve of his body, not the ridiculously sexy guttural sounds he made when Victor touched him. The Japanese was a very responsive lover, which Victor very much enjoyed.

Dipping down to latch his lips on Yuri’s neck, he began to suck and nibble. God, the younger man was like a feast which one just couldn’t get enough of.  
“Mmn..! No marks… Please…” he heard him utter through moans. Victor stopped and looked up to meet Yuri’s eyes.  
“Can I leave marks where no one else can see?”  
Yuri’s blush immediately deepened at the question. The older man couldn't help but grin in return – God, that adorable blush was going to be the death of him.

Victor started moving down the Japanese’s body, leaving hot kisses all over his chest and stomach. Yuri shut his eyes. Oh… The silver-haired man was tantalisingly close to his cock now. Expecting the hot wetness of the older man’s tongue to reach him there, he held his breath. But instead he felt the other man distance himself. The loss of immediate contact chilled Yuri unexpectedly. When he opened his eyes, he saw Victor lean over to open the bedside table drawer. He pulled out a colourful flask and placed it on the bedsheets next to them.  
“We’re going to need this in a minute,” he said as he flashed Yuri a smile which made the latter’s whole body increase in temperature.

Victor placed himself back onto the smaller man, making their erect members graze against each other. Yuri sighed. At this point, he was pretty sure there was no better sensation than Victor Nikiforov’s hot and heavy body on top of his. He was soon proven wrong though – as he felt a finger lightly stroke the patch of skin just underneath his balls. Yuri jumped and gasped almost violently.  
“Ah!” Oh my God. Just one gentle finger sent pleasurable shivers down his spine. His vision almost blurred as Victor continued to stroke and moved his lips to his ear. His breath was hot on Yuri’s skin, and he seemed to be breathing quite heavily. Though honestly, Yuri couldn’t really tell what was happening anymore.  
“How does that feel?”  
The sultry, low tone of that irresistible Russian accent made the Japanese’s heart beat even faster. If this continued, he reckoned he might die. But boy, he didn’t even care. There were certainly worse ways to go…

“Ah… ah… It feels… so good…”  
Yuri’s heavy panting and obvious pleasure turned Victor on even more. He muffled a moan into the younger man’s throat before reaching over to the lube he had left next to them on the bed. Apparently, Yuri opposed to the cease in prostate stimulation as he dug his fingers into Victor’s hips and let out the most adorable grunt. The Russian chuckled.  
“Patience, love.” He squeezed some of the slippery substance onto his fingers. “This will feel even better.”

And of course, Victor was right. The combination of the cold lube and the feeling of Victor’s finger inside him, left Yuri dumbfounded. With each teasing stroke, he could only focus on the electrifying waves of pleasure through his body. Damn, this was so much better than the last time had been. Was it because they were taking their time, truly exploring each other’s bodies? (Or at least, Victor was exploring Yuri’s body. The Japanese made a mental note to rectify that later.) Or was it because they were both stone-cold sober, and their senses clearer? Anyway, it didn’t matter. There was only right now.

Victor slipped a second finger inside Yuri, and watched as the latter gasped and moaned. He had always enjoyed watching a lover – teasing them, making them feel the jolts of pleasure. Bringing them to the brink of sweet oblivion. It satisfied him just as much as the other person. The Russian had barely even touched himself; still the drops of pre-cum leaking from his tip were proof of his excitement. They were both very hard, he mused, as he glanced down to their crotches. Their swollen limbs were occasionally touching, as Victor fingered Yuri. Neither of them would last much longer, he realised. And they hadn’t even really started yet.

Having loosened up the muscle enough, Victor slid his fingers out of Yuri with one last teasing stroke. He once again grabbed the lube, and started to slick his aching length up. He met the younger man’s eyes before descending on him, hungrily pressing his lips against his. He wanted to devour the Japanese skater. He wanted to taste every last bit of him. It actually made him scared. What exactly had gotten into him? Victor had never been obsessed like this with anyone before. Not knowing how else to handle this overwhelming feeling, he guided his cock towards Yuri’s opening.  
“Just relax,” he whispered as he gently probed the hole with his tip.  
The sound Yuri made when he entered him was sensational. If Victor had given a damn about the neighbouring rooms, he might have felt embarrassed. But as it was, he couldn’t care less. Others didn’t exist – there was only him and Yuri.

Victor knew how to read a lover’s body, and it didn’t take long before he had found just the right angle to make sure his cock slid over Yuri’s prostate with every thrust. The Russian suddenly remembered that there was supposedly still a storm going on outside, but if that was the case he couldn’t hear any of it. He only heard the Japanese’s panting, gasping, moaning. Or was that Victor himself making those sounds? He wasn’t completely sure anymore. Yuri felt so tight around him, that nothing else really registered than that exhilarating intimacy.

Yuri Katsuki was by now sure he was actually going to die. His insides were on fire, his head couldn’t stop spinning, and every thrust delivered by the sexiest man alive pushed him closer to the edge. He desperately clutched onto the bedsheets for some sort of stabilisation. It didn’t help much. He was hesitant to even touch his swollen cock that was slapping against his own stomach, for fear of erupting in an explosion that would surely leave his mind blown.

“Yuri… I’m close…” Victor’s voice came out hoarse and almost shaky. He was breathless and slightly slicked with sweat. Shouldn't he be in better condition than this, being a professional athlete and all? How long had they even been at it? He had lost all sense of time.  
“Me… too..!”  
Victor inhaled sharply. Yuri’s sweet moaning almost did him in right then. He forced himself to slow down just a little, and started to rhythmically stroke down Yuri’s length. The Japanese tried to suppress another loud moan, releasing a hand from the sheets and bringing it up to his mouth.  
“Can I come inside you?”  
“Y-yes…”

Hearing Yuri’s consent, Victor only needed a few more thrusts before he came and experienced one of the most powerful orgasms he’d ever had. The whole world whitened out around him; and he sensed, rather than heard, himself crying out in forceful pleasure. He had no idea how long it lasted. And it wasn’t until his vision came back into focus, and he looked down on the other skater and noticed the strands of fresh cum on the latter’s chest and stomach, that he realised that Yuri had also come.

Victor had to take a few moments to compose himself, trying to steady his breathing. He felt his spent cock still twitch inside Yuri. Wow, that had nearly knocked him out. How could one man be so utterly desirable? Giving himself another minute to calm down before carefully sliding out of the other man – eliciting a sweet gasp from the latter – he then pecked a kiss on his lips.  
“Don’t move,” he said before he ventured into the adjoining bathroom. He came back with a damp towel, and proceeded to wipe up the mess. He noticed that the Japanese was still clutching onto the bedsheets, which made Victor smile. When he was done mopping on Yuri’s chest, he discarded the towel and snuggled up beside him.

Yuri felt himself relax as Victor began to slowly run his fingers through his dark locks. The older man placed his chin on the Japanese’s shoulder.  
“You alright, Yuri?” he asked in that sexy Russian accent. His face was so close that Yuri felt the warmth of his breath when he spoke. Angling his head slightly towards the other man, their foreheads ended up against each other’s. The black-haired man felt… calm. Content. Exhausted and invigorated at the same time. And best of all – he hadn't died. Or maybe he had, and had gone to heaven. Looking at the silver-haired man in front of him, it wasn't such a hard thing to believe.  
“I’m great, actually,” Yuri replied, and couldn’t keep a lazy smile off his features. The Russian smiled back at him, before pressing his lips against his. Their kiss was sweet, and told of yet unspoken things.

“But I need to take a shower,” he continued when they eventually broke away from each other. “I’ll just run back to my hotel room…”  
“Just take one here,” Victor said simply, and snuck his arms tighter around the other man. He was rewarded with a funny look.  
“Victor, my room is literally just down the hall. Celestino managed to get the same one back, and he already brought my suitcase back up…”  
“Mm, but if you take one here, we can take it together.”  
The Japanese skater blushed. How could the Russian say those things so easily? Sure, they had just engaged in… things Yuri never thought he’d do (especially not with Victor Nikiforov). But he wasn't ready to stand butt-naked in a well-lit bathroom with the man just yet. So he awkwardly released himself from Victor’s arms.  
“Th-that’s okay. I need to get my phone charger anyway… And I’d like a change of clothes…”  
As Yuri sat up and scanned the floor for his underwear, the silver-haired man propped himself up on an elbow.  
“So that means you’re spending the night here?”

Yuri startled. Shit, shit. Had he just assumed that he would? He hadn’t even given it much thought, he just… What exactly had he figured? Hesitantly, he looked back over his shoulder. And was met with a near-glowing expression on Victor Nikiforov’s face. Wow.  
“Uh… Can I? I-I mean, do… do you want me to?”  
Yuri didn’t have time to react before the Russian skater threw his arms around him again, sporting that adorable heart-shaped smile.  
“Yuuuriii! Silly Yuri,” Victor cooed as he snuggled his face into the Japanese’s neck. “Of course I want you to.”  
He distanced himself enough so that the other man could see his face. And what a face. The older man's expression was now relaxed and sincere.  
“I want you to stay close to me.”

\--

Victor made short use of Yuri’s shower, as he basically lustfully attacked the younger man when he returned from his own hotel room. So the Japanese ended up taking a shower in Victor’s bathroom anyway (but fortunately he managed to shoo the Russian out).

The thunder had stopped, but the rain was still falling hard outside. Yuri was sitting on the bed, scrolling through his phone, when Victor emerged from the bathroom after having brushed his teeth.  
“So, have you started planning for next season?” the Russian asked cheerfully. “Do you have a theme in mind yet?”  
Yuri's fingers stopped short over the screen. He looked up, and felt his cheeks burn – both because of the sensitive nature of the question, and because Victor was standing bare-chested and god-like next to the bed. The Japanese was still not used to having a half-naked (or totally naked) Victor Nikiforov around him, so he averted his eyes shyly.  
“A-actually, I…” Yuri began, but stopped himself. Was it really alright to tell the other skater this? He figured he would find out eventually anyway, if Yuri went through with his plans. And the Japanese had pretty much made up his mind already. So what was the harm? He had already shared more with Victor during the past few days than he had with anyone else.  
“Actually, I’m thinking about retiring.”

Victor’s expectant smile faltered. He felt a chill run through his body, and stared at the other skater. Had he actually heard him right?  
“What?” he mustered, but his voice seemed small and fragile. It somehow annoyed him that Yuri avoided looking at him. So Victor sat down next to him on the bed.  
“No, Yuri. You can’t.”  
The younger man’s eyebrows slightly furrowed, and finally he looked up to meet Victor’s eyes.  
“What?”  
“The way you skate… I love watching you skate, Yuri.” He took the black-haired man’s hand, as to confirm that he was sincere. Cause Victor was. “You’re amazing on the ice.”  
Yuri stared at him in what seemed like utter disbelief, before his eyebrows knit together even harder on his beautiful face. Uh oh. He didn’t look happy.  
“Are… are you making fun of me?” His otherwise timid tone was suddenly teetering on harsh and annoyed. Almost hurt. Victor stared back at him. What? No. That hadn’t been the Russian’s intention at all.  
“Why would you think that?” he said, but the younger man pulled away and got up from the bed. He walked over to the window. The rain was smattering hard against the glass; the city outside shrouded in darkness.

“How can you say that? That’s… that’s cruel,” Yuri continued, but with a voice that now sounded defeated and even more hurt. Victor was flabbergasted. How had this taken such a wrong turn?  
“Cruel? I’m just saying what I really think.” Despite his better judgement, he felt himself grow increasingly annoyed too. He rose from the bed and started to approach the other man. “Is it so unbelievable that I think you’re a good skater?”  
“Yes!”  
Victor stopped in his tracks at the sudden outburst. What had gotten into Yuri?  
“How can you think that I’m any good? It’s like a joke,” the Japanese continued, his cheeks growing redder from frustration.  
“Why? Why can’t I think-“  
“Because, you're Victor Nikiforov!” Yuri nearly yelled, his eyes finally locked on the other skater’s.

The silence that followed only lasted a few seconds, but felt like an eternity. Yuri hadn't realised just how worked up he’d gotten, and tried to steady his breathing. He averted his eyes to the floor, not being able to look upon Victor’s dumbfounded face. Crap, crap! What had he just gone and said? It had come out all wrong.  
But… How could Victor Nikiforov think that he, Yuri Katsuki, was a good skater? They weren’t even in the same league. Yuri was a failure, he knew that. And Victor… Victor was everything. Not just a skater. Not anymore.

No, Victor was so much more. But how could he, or anyone at all, think that Yuri Katsuki was good enough?

“I see.” Victor’s calm tone finally broke the silence. “Is that all that I am? My name?”  
Yuri shot his eyes back up to look upon the Russian skater. His tone might have been even, but his face looked mad. And hurt. It made Yuri's stomach twist into knots, and before he could say anything, Victor continued – and this time, his tone matched his expression.  
“And are you happy that you went to bed with the great Victor Nikiforov?”  
Yuri could only stare at him, shocked. He barely registered the tears that started to fall down his hot cheeks. What was happening? Why was this happening? Somehow, he found his voice.  
“No. That’s… not what I’m saying at all. I just….” His voice was pathetically weak. He shook his head. This had all been a mistake. “I… I should leave.”  
He rushed past Victor to gather his things, struggling to contain the increasing tears.

But Victor immediately caught him from behind, holding him tight against his bare chest. Yuri could feel the older man taking deep breaths, burying his face into his shoulder.  
“I’m sorry, Yuri. I didn’t mean it.” Victor’s voice was small, and pleading. “Please don’t leave.”  
Yuri felt a sob burn in his throat, and struggled to keep it down. He forcibly shut his eyes and kept silent.

They stayed like that for a while; Victor desperately hugging Yuri from behind. Victor could feel how the shorter man tried to suppress his sobs. He had made Yuri Katsuki cry. Victor felt like shit. And he had no idea how to handle a crying person. Why had he been such an asshole? Why had he snapped like that? That wasn't like him; he could usually keep his temper at bay. But, when it came to the Japanese skater… Victor just couldn’t stand the thought of being nothing but his name. Of only being his image. He didn’t want to be put on a pedestal – he wanted Yuri to take him in his arms.  
Carefully, he placed a kiss on the younger man’s neck. When he spoke, his voice was mellow.  
“Yuri… Just what do you want me to be to you?”  
He knew it was dangerous to bring it up again, but he had to ask.

The Japanese let out something that could have been either a sob or a chuckle. Maybe both.  
“I just want you to be yourself. I love it when you’re… like this.”  
Victor felt his eyes widen, and he tightened his hold on the other man. Did Yuri realise what he had just said? It didn’t seem like he realised the weight of his wording, but Victor sure did. No one had ever said those words to him before. The taller man turned Yuri around to face him. Wiping away the last tears on the younger man’s cheeks, Victor pressed a soft kiss on his forehead.  
“Will you stay?”  
Yuri took a deep breath. The hesitant pause made Victor’s heart ache. Then the Japanese nodded.  
“Okay.”

\--

They spent a night together that neither of them would forget. But the storm rolled past, and with the next day came sunshine – so Yuri’s flight was rescheduled to that afternoon. Leaving Victor’s hotel room, he lingered at the door. The Russian brought a hand up to Yuri’s mouth, and gently stroked the bottom lip. His bright blue eyes were locked on him; the gaze penetrating. The handsome man smiled slightly.  
“If you’re really retiring… When will I see you again?” he asked – his Russian accent sending good vibrations throughout Yuri’s body. The Japanese man returned the smile shyly.  
“Come to Hasetsu. We have hot springs… and good food.”  
The taller man chuckled.  
“I might take you up on that offer.”

After kissing Yuri goodbye – a passionate, prolonged exchange – Victor once again found himself alone in his hotel room. He couldn’t help but think about his own figure skating career. The Russian living legend had lost inspiration a while ago. How could he surprise the audience? What exactly was he going to do next? What did he really want out of it all? He wasn't ready to leave the figure skating world behind completely – he had dedicated his whole life to it, after all. But… He also wanted a new challenge.

Victor paused when he noticed a piece of clothing that wasn’t his. Again? He couldn’t help but smile to himself as he picked it up. This time it was a glove – from the pair the Japanese had been wearing while he had been waiting in the lobby, before Victor came and whisked him away. Placing the glove carefully by his own nearly-packed suitcase, Victor stared at it for a moment.

It just didn’t make sense. Why should Yuri Katsuki retire, when he was clearly capable of achieving so much more? And the Japanese skater was still young; younger than Victor. Hadn't Victor had his fill of glory days? What was it that Yuri needed to go on? Did he need new inspiration, fresh insight? What if… What if…  
When the idea finally lodged itself in Victor’s mind, his eyes lit up. And he suddenly knew what to do. Yes, he would take Yuri up on his offer.

And in Hasetsu, Victor Nikiforov would propose an offer of his own to Yuri Katsuki.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> THANK YOU ALL SO MUCH FOR READING! Thank you to everyone who commented/bookmarked it/left kudos. I am so grateful for all the feedback! This is my first experience sharing anything I've written, and it has certainly been a happy one!  
> <3


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